


Fuck off, You're Perfect

by XxmerthurcatxX



Series: Gallavich Fix It Fics [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Finally, Fix It, Hand Jobs, Ian is insecure, M/M, Making Out, Mickey is honest about his feelings, Mickey makes him feel better, leg wound, non graphic description of scars, sequel to I'm Still Yours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 10:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxmerthurcatxX/pseuds/XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: This is the sequel to I'm Still Yours from my Gallavich fix it series. It doesn't really make sense on it's own, so I would read the other one first.Mickey and Ian have talked it all out and sort of gotten their shit together, but every time they start to get hot and heavy Ian pulls away. Mickey is determined to get to the bottom of why.





	Fuck off, You're Perfect

It had been two weeks since Ian and Mickey were reunited and things were going surprisingly well. Ian spent almost all of his free time at Mickey’s. They’d stay up into the wee hours of the night, catching up on everything they’d missed in each other’s lives the past few years. Ian learned that Svetlana got sick fast and died even faster. One minute she was bouncing Yev on her hip and the next she was gone. The apartment had been paid for in full by a loyal customer of hers (apparently she’d started working for a high end escort service shortly after Ian had left and her regulars were very generous.) Mickey learned that the army had a fuck ton of rules and that the reason Ian got hurt in the first place was because the men he was doing recon with were fucking idiots who thought they knew better than their captain. 

Things were good. 

Except for one thing. 

They hadn’t fucked.

Mickey wasn’t sure about Ian, but he was chomping at the fucking bit. It was driving him crazy. They’d kissed a bunch which was nice. A few years ago, Mickey would never have admitted how much he loved kissing Ian, but now he couldn’t get enough. That being said, he was starting to wonder why Ian pulled away everytime things started to get hot and heavy. He always had an excuse; he was tired from work, he didn’t want to wake Yev up, blah blah blah. It was getting old. 

“You want another beer?” Ian called from the kitchen as he finished up the dishes from dinner. 

“Nah, I’m still working on this one,” Mickey yelled back. Truth be told he’d finished the beer ages ago, but he wanted his hands free. He had a plan. Yev was with Mandy for the evening, after much groveling and maybe a little bribery, so they had the apartment to themselves. Ian had the day off and he didn't have to work tomorrow, so there was really no excuse. 

The second Ian was back sitting on the couch Mickey was on him, straddling his lap and kissing him deeply. Gone were the days he beat himself up about being too eager. He finally had Ian back and he wasn’t going to fuck it up again. 

Ian kissed back, sighing happily into Mickey’s mouth, his hands circling the older boy’s hips. So far so good, Mickey thought, rocking his hips forward slowly. Ian groaned low in the back of his throat, trailing one hand up Mickey’s back to grip at the back of his neck, kissing him hungrily. Mickey answered the groan with one of his own as Ian tugged at the hair at the base of his neck. 

It wasn’t until one of Mickey’s hands slid from Ian’s chest to the boy’s belt buckle that they hit a snag. Ian broke the kiss, batting Mickey’s hands away and leaning back to put a little distance between them. 

“Not tonight Mick,” he said, out of breath from the kiss. 

Mickey frowned. They’d been on track to at least get each other off with their hands, what gives? He stared down at his lap. 

“Is...am I...Is something wrong? With me, I mean?” he asked quietly. 

“What? Of course not,” Ian said hastily. 

“Then why the fuck won’t you...I mean--jesus, how come we haven’t fucked yet?”

Ian fidgeted uncomfortably, eyes downcast. Mickey wanted to be understanding about whatever was going on, but he was frustrated. Ian never had trouble telling Mickey what was up, even when Mickey didn’t want to hear it. 

“If I did something o-or if you’re not into me anymore, just tell me,” Mickey said, unable to come up with any other reason for Ian’s behavior. 

“Oh god Mick, you didn’t do anything. I swear. It’s me,” Ian assured him

Mickey huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure. Are you seriously trying to, it’s not you it’s me, me right now?” he asked. 

Ian sighed, shaking his head and pulling Mickey forward so he could hide his face in the older boy’s chest. He took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself, leaning into the touch when Mickey started stroking his hair. 

“Whatever it is, we can work it out,” Mickey said softly. “Please. You gotta tell me.”

Ian nodded, muttering something that got lost in Mickey’s shirt. 

“What was that, Mumbles?” he asked affectionately. 

Ian pulled away so his voice wouldn’t be muffled. 

“It’s my leg. I-I don’t want to gross you out,” he admitted. 

As soon as the words were out of Ian’s mouth, Mickey felt like an idiot for not thinking about that. To be fair, he didn’t think Ian was that self conscious. Ian had always been the more confident of the two of them. He was hot and he knew it. Not that he was ever a dick about it. He was the one who went for what he wanted. The one who dragged Mickey, kicking and screaming, out of his shell. But now, he was refusing to meet Mickey’s eyes, biting his lip so hard Mickey worried he might draw blood. He sighed, running a hand through Ian’s hair. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, voice soft but authoritative. 

Ian hesitantly looked up at Mickey, eyes wet with emotion. 

“I’m only gonna say this once, so you better fucking pay attention,” Mickey said seriously. “I wouldn’t care if you had come home missing that leg entirely. I want you. So fucking bad. And nothing is ever gonna change that because...because I love you,” he finished, voice just above a whisper. 

The tears in Ian’s eyes spilled over as he gaped at Mickey, whose face was a deep shade of red as he cleared his throat nervously. Ian fisted that back of Mickey’s shirt in his hands, dragging him forward into an embrace so tight Mickey could hardly breathe. But he didn’t care. Ian needed this. Hell, he did too. 

The red head trembled against him, pressing kisses to Mickey’s neck, trailing up to nip at his jaw. 

“Me too,” Ian groaned, “God Mick, I love you too. Always have,” he admitted, sucking a bruise at the older boy’s jaw. 

“Fuck,” Mickey cursed, cupping Ian’s face in his hands and tilting his head up so he could seal their lips together in a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Years of longing and want poured between them as they ripped at each other’s shirts, desperate for the delicious drag of skin against skin. 

Mickey mapped out Ian’s chest, trailing his fingers down the familiar planes of his abs, to the dip of his hips. Ian hummed appreciatively, breaking the kiss in favor of flicking his tongue against one of Mickey’s nipples. The shorter boy whimpered, rolling his hips against Ian’s and drawing gasps from both of them. 

Ian’s hands were at Mickey’s fly, practically ripping his jeans open so he could slip a hand beneath the waistband to rub at Mickey’s cock through his boxers. Mickey tucked his face into Ian’s neck, rocking against his hand. 

“A-ah, fuck,  _ Ian _ ,” he choked out as Ian’s hand slipped into his underwear, fingers curling around his dick, giving it a few firm strokes. “W-wait. You too. Please. Wanna touch you. Can I?” he asked, fingers at Ian’s belt. 

Ian swallowed hard, his nerves kicking in again, but he nodded. With his permission, Mickey undid his belt, popping the button of his jeans and sliding them slowly down his legs. Ian’s breath hitched when his leg was bare, fighting the urge to flinch under Mickey’s gaze. 

“Does it hurt?” Mickey asked quietly, brushing his knuckles across Ian’s knee. 

“N-not today,” Ian answered honestly. 

Mickey hummed, leaning forward to press a kiss to Ian’s mangled thigh. 

“Mickey y-you don’t have to do that,” Ian stuttered. “I know it’s not-

“Fuck off, you’re perfect,” Mickey cut him off. 

Ian would have laughed but he found himself moaning instead as Mickey began trailing kisses across every scar. Mickey nuzzled his knee, tongue tracing over the crescent shaped scar that curled around Ian’s whole kneecap. He was as hard in his jeans as he had ever been and when his eyes flickered up Ian’s thighs, he could see the red head was pitching an impressive tent in his boxers. 

Finally Mickey couldn’t take it anymore, ripping Ian’s boxers off his legs and nearly tripping in his haste to get out of his own pants and boxers. He straddled Ian’s lap, dragging their hips together and kissing the boy hungrily. 

They weren’t gonna make it to the actual fucking. They were too pent up from being apart for so long. But when Ian licked his palm and wrapped his big hand around both of them, Mickey found he didn’t care. They’d have plenty of time for fucking later. Right now, the urge to get off was fucking dizzying. 

“T-this is gonna-ah, b-be embarrassing,” Mickey huffed, cheeks red at his own admission. His thighs were shaking as he pushed his hips into Ian’s grip. 

“It’s okay. Not, oh god Mick, not gonna last either. Want you too bad. I-I can’t-” he cut off with a choked moan, biting Mickey’s shoulder hard as his hips stuttered, his release making the slide of his hand that much slicker for Mickey to fuck into. 

“Don’t stop. A-almost there. Fuck. I-Ian. _Ian_ ,” Mickey whimpered the other boy’s name one more time before he followed him over the edge, coming harder than he had in years. Harder than he had since Ian left. 

They stayed pressed together as they caught their breath, chests heaving. Mickey couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he pressed a sleepy kiss to Ian’s lips. 

“So...you love me,” Ian said, grinning. 

“Shut up,” Mickey grunted. 

“And you think I’m perfect,” he teased, pushing Mickey’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. 

“Yeah, well, I take it back,” Mickey grumbled, moving to get off Ian’s lap. The red head seemed to have other plans as he flipped them around so Mickey was flat on his back on the couch with Ian hovering over him, teasing smirk in place. 

“Too late. No take backsies.”

Mickey snorted. 

“Take backsies? What is this, fucking kindergarten?”

Ian smiled fondly down at his grumpy boyfriend. Wait...were they boyfriends? Is that what this was? 

“Mickey are we, uh, I mean, no pressure but, um-

“Spit it out, Firecrotch,” Mickey said irritably. 

“Fine. I just wanna know if we’re a couple or not,” Ian said quickly. 

The blush that had faded from Mickey’s cheeks was back in full force now. He nibbled his bottom lip for a moment, eyes searching Ian’s face. 

“Of course we are,” he murmured, thumb brushing Ian’s cheekbone. 

Ian’s smile was so big it hurt as he clambered off the shorter boy, getting to his feet and effortlessly slinging his boyfriend over his shoulder to carry him off to the bedroom. 

“Whoa, hey, what the fuck, Gallagher?!” Mickey spazzed, wriggling in Ian’s hold. The red head laughed, holding tighter to the disgruntled boy. 

“Time for round two!”

Mickey wasn’t sure how he felt about being slung over Ian’s shoulder (for real, he sort of understood why princess Fiona was so pissed at Shrek), but when Ian had him spread out on the bed, fucking into him slow and deep, he figured he could forgive him. Just this once. 


End file.
